


Control

by Melie



Category: Lost
Genre: Dream Sex, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-01
Updated: 2009-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2415869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melie/pseuds/Melie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thinks she is his. And sometimes, in her dreams, sometimes, she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> (I made a dream in which I wrote a fanfiction. Except that in my dream it was in French, but when I woke up it sounded better in English, so here it is...)
> 
> English is not my mothertongue, so please if you spot spelling or grammar mistakes don't hesitate to tell me, I won't mind, on the contrary I'd be glad to know :-)

He had said “You are mine” and she had cried.

Once, a few times, he had put his hand on her cheek, on her chin, she had looked away but she had not said anything, because she was scared, and because, deep down, he still controlled her. Manipulated her. His puppet, his doll, and she knew it and she hated it.

So she had obeyed her even after she had met Jack until she had been able to break through his hold, and then she had felt alive, she had felt herself, away from his control, and she had felt a bit lost too, but Jack was there, and after Jack was gone it was James, and she loved him, she loved each of them or so she kept repeating herself so she didn't forget about Ben and “You are mine” but eventually she tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, that Ben wasn't there anyway or not as he used to be, Ben wasn't there except in her mind, and that couldn't do anything to her.

But.

 

*  


Sometimes, she dreamt – or maybe it was inspired by the truth, maybe, maybe when he had come back, all bloody and wounded but still planning and she had healed him and he was still talking, maybe she had let him, maybe – she dreamt and she was back in her house or his – Alex away, or forgotten, depending on the dream – and she was tied up to a chair – probably reflecting what she felt when he was there anyway – and he.

She could feel him, fingers and lips, teasing her, a hand on her leg, her thigh, her hip, and this smile, this awful contented smile, the smile of the one that had won. She didn't know whether she should scream or moan – or rather yes, she did know, but that scared her even more.

Those dreams – unless they were memories, or part of memories, or just inspired by something, but she didn't like to think about it – were long, very long, and she could feel everything.

And when she woke up she sometimes thought the arms around her waist were not Jack's or James' but Ben's and she didn't know what to do, but fortunately before she decided to run away – but maybe that was what she thought, maybe she would never run away because maybe it was more simple this way and not so bad after all, but she didn't want to admit it, there was nothing to admit - there was always a sigh that was not Ben's and that made her realize her mistake.

But until she woke up, there was no Jack, no James. There was only Ben, the island, and her.

 

END.


End file.
